


Divergence

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-24
Updated: 2004-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-07 03:46:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10351608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS :  Nemesis and Small Victories, mentions eventsffrom selected episodes from earlier seasons.SUMMARY :  Missing scenes for Nemesis and SmallVictories





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Stargate SG-1 Fanfiction - Divergence

##  Divergence

##### Written by ETS   
Comments? Write to us at [SpeedNN@aol.com](http://astele.co.uk/StargateFan/Chapter/Details/SpeedNN@aol.com)

  * SPOILERS : Nemesis and Small Victories, mentions events ffrom selected episodes from earlier seasons. 
  * SUMMARY : Missing scenes for Nemesis and Small Victories 
  * PG [M] 



* * *

Sam Carter careened around the hallway corner leading to the Infirmary, never slowing her frenetic pace.  As she hustled down the corridor, she mentally checked her vested field supplies while shifting her P90 from one hand to the other.  

A quick glance at her wristwatch indicated few precious minutes remained to complete her errand before rendezvousing with Teal’c in the Embarkation Room to meet Colonel O’Neill’s beam up deadline.  Sam spied her destination ahead and forced herself to slow her hurried pace.  Daniel didn’t need to see her rush into the infirmary breathless and anxious.   To that end, Sam actually stopped outside the entryway where she could see Daniel’s unmoving, sheet covered form reposing in the hospital bed.  She concentrated on inhaling deep, calming breaths.  

Sam was going to tell Daniel almost everything swirling around this latest crisis.  SG-1 was leaving, sans their archeologist, in an attempt to save the planet but also assure him they had every intention of surviving and returning.  She already decided it wasn’t a good idea to tell Daniel the colonel had willingly volunteered to annihilate himself along with the infested Assgard ship before she devised her alternative option.   No, Daniel didn’t need to know how close he had come to losing his best friend in a desperate act of heroism.  There were no guarantees her plan would succeed either, but Daniel would have that hope to cling to.  She had no intention of dying and despite his earlier bravado, suspected neither did the colonel or Teal’c.  

Knowing time was slipping away, Sam quietly entered the Infirmary and approached her ailing teammate.  She stopped at his bedside, her heart sinking.

Daniel was asleep. 

In a split second Sam’s decision was made.  Leaning down, she carefully removed Daniel’s slightly askew glasses, folding the metal arms to set them on the table.   Sam brushed her fingertips over her friend’s pale forehead before she bent and placed a light kiss there.  

Straightening, she whispered, “We’ll be back, Daniel.  I promise.  Try not to worry, okay?”

Message delivered, Sam turned and almost collided with a hovering Doctor Fraiser. 

“Janet…” Sam breathed, regaining her balance.

“I’ll tell him when he wakes up,” the physician whispered.

“Thanks,” Sam offered, her immense gratitude written on her face and spoken in the one word.

“Go,” Janet encouraged.  “Good luck.”

“Oh, we’re just saving the planet…again,” Sam replied softly, her sarcasm evident.  “Piece of cake.” When Janet didn’t lose her concerned expression, Sam relented.  “Thanks. We’ll need it.”  With one last lingering glance toward the sleeping Daniel, the major turned to exit and paused, facing the physician.  “Take care of him.”

Janet nodded.  With determination in her stride, Sam departed.  

****

# Arrival P3X-234

Jack O'Neill tumbled from the wormhole and rolled down the dirt incline leading away from the Stargate on P3X-234.  Stopping his momentum, he righted himself on hands and knees.   Jack heard the familiar rumble of the wormhole collapsing behind him.  Ahead, he immediately saw a familiar white light lancing from the sky, to surround Thor's hovering stasis pod then disappear, taking Thor with it.  Jack jumped to his feet and waved to the azure sky overhead.

"You're welcome!" O'Neill shouted upward.  "Glad to be of help! Call on us anytime!" 

Disgusted and annoyed to realize the Assgard were apparently going to leave himself, Carter and Teal'c stranded on lovely P3X-234, O'Neill allowed his military training to assert itself.  Clapping the dust from his hands before positioning the P90 in a defensive hold, he began to assess their serene surroundings, tamping down the adrenaline fed fight or flight remnants of their encounter with the replicators. God, he’d be feeling phantom crawlings on his body for days.  He really hated bugs.

Jack’s reconnaissance easily located his two teammates.   They were standing approximately one hundred yards away, giving a nearby grove of coniferous-shaped trees careful scrutiny. Carter noticed he was looking at them, and together, she and Teal'c walked toward their CO.

"Okay, kids, here we are,” O’Neill waved his left arm around, “on lovely P3X-234. Everyone okay, any injuries?" Visually, he didn't see any wounds on Carter or Teal’c, no bleeding bites, no missing patches of flesh, and all digits and limbs accounted for.  Peachy.

"No, sir."

"I am uninjured, O'Neill."

"Good. That's a start anyway. Apparently," Jack waved skyward, "the Assgard have decided not to give us a ride home."

"Well, sir, we chose this planet to 'gate to because it is suitable to sustaining human life.  Based upon previous planetary surveys, the climate is optimal for our needs. We should be able to find potable water and hunt and gather edible plants when our MREs are gone.   Plus there is plenty of native materials available for construction of temporary shelters while we wait to dial home," Carter explained.

“Carter, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were overly pleased to be roughing it for a while,” Jack drawled sarcastically.  “Sure you don’t consider this to be just a little bit fun?”

“No, sir,” Carter vehemently denied.  “Although I don’t mind getting sweaty and dirty for a few days, survival training was the least favorite part of my education at the Academy.”

“You don’t say,” O’Neill quipped.  "Speaking of which, assuming Hammond and the other folks in the control room figure out why the Stargate was taken and get the Beta gate out of 

storage, set up and running, how long do we have to wait before we can start dialing home?"

"Well, sir, assuming everything goes smoothly during the setup operation, my best guess,” Carter paused, thinking, “is five days."

"Five days!" 

"Sir---"

O'Neill raised a hand.  "I don't want to hear it, Carter.  Five days," he sighed.  "Well, looks like I may get that fishing trip in after all," Jack said brightening. Considering six hours ago he thought he was going to die, things were definitely looking up.   "Thank God Daniel’s safe at the SGC," he proclaimed.  “As nice as this place is, it’s no place for a man recovering from a recent appendectomy.”

"Ahh, sir," Carter began, blushing while averting her eyes.

O'Neill looked from Teal'c to his 2IC.  His face-hardened in response to her anxious expression.     "Carter? You did tell Daniel we were planning on coming back from Thor's ship alive, right?"

"Well, sir,” the major began.  She straightened and faced her CO.  “Teal'c and I only had ten minutes to requisition the explosives you requested as well as the EVA suits.  I did go to the Infirmary, but Daniel was asleep.  Janet swore to me she would tell him when he woke up."

"Damnit!!" O'Neill shouted.  “Damn, damn, damn!!” he swore, spinning around, hands placed on his hips.   

"I'm sorry, sir," Carter apologized.

Jack immediately reined in his anger, turning around to again face his teammates.  Carter wasn’t to blame and certainly didn’t deserve his wrath.  "No,.....I'm sorry," O'Neill quickly apologized. "It's not your fault. Hell, I never even mentioned in my message for someone to please tell Daniel, to tell him....for crying out loud.” He exhaled, calming himself. “Okay," he said, once again taking charge.  "We need to find a place to set up camp and inventory our supplies and armaments."

"Major Carter and I believe we have located an acceptable location near those trees, O'Neill."  The Jaffa pointed to the designated place.  “There is ample fuel for sustaining a fire and a potable water source nearby.”

"Great. More friggin’ trees,” the older man muttered. “Okay.  Let's get moving."

Jack led the way, followed by his teammates.  Seeing to their survival would keep him occupied and momentarily shove aside the guilt he felt over leaving Daniel behind--again. Granted, this time the civilian had been left behind at the SGC where he should be safe.  Given their present circumstances, it was the best place for Daniel to be.  The archeologist might become a little worried when someone told him what happened while he was getting his beauty rest.  Jack vividly remembered Daniel’s pale, gaunt face beneath the glasses during his last, brief visit.  The younger man was obviously in some discomfort, but, Daniel being Daniel, was putting on a brave front. In hindsight, with luck, Daniel was still sleeping through this crisis, blithely unaware of what had happened. Carter not being able to give him a rushed explanation was probably a good thing.  The last impediment Daniel needed for his recovery was to fret over the well being of his temporarily missing teammates.   Right, that was acceptable.  As for the waiting, well Hammond the Doc and everyone else at the base had better take extremely good care of his archeologist or there would be hell to pay when they got back.  Jack had no doubt he was returning to Earth along with Carter and Teal’c. This was not going to become another Edora.  

Five days.  Five days and they would be safely home with a whopper of a story to tell.  SG-1 would be reunited.  Daniel would have been slightly inconvenienced by their separation. The two of them would take that fishing trip and settle things.  No other outcome was acceptable.

Why did he have that niggling feeling of unease in his gut?

****

# SGC

Master Sergeant Walter Davis, mouth agape, shared in the stunned silence permeating the control room.  He, and the others, had just witnessed the unbelievable disappearance of the Stargate engulfed in a blinding white light.  Doctor Jackson was the first to break the silence.

"They're going to use it to escape!" he blurted in explanation.

Walter reacted to this fantastic declaration by staring in disbelief toward the ailing civilian who sat at the console immediately to his right.

"They'll gate from the ship just like you did from Apophis’ mother ship!" Major Davis stated in a rushed voice, having apparently deduced the same outcome as the archeologist.  

The sergeant saw the two men look hopefully toward the standing general. The older man reacted quickly, moving to the nearest phone and seizing the handset.  "This is Hammond.  I want the Beta gate brought out of storage and setup for immediate use." 

Orders issued, he slammed the receiver into its holder.   The grim faced base commander turned to gaze at their Pentagon liaison officer.  Walter did as well, watching Davis replace the handset against his left ear, listening. A few tense seconds passed, before the major hung up his phone. 

"The fireball just impacted in the Pacific Ocean. Recovery crews are on their way."  Announcement given, he looked at the seated and distraught archeologist.   "I'm sure the reason for taking the 'gate was for an escape," he offered, apparently not wanting to think the worse.

"Let's just hope they had enough time to escape," Daniel replied softly, concern evident in his tone.

Walter glanced at the man sitting beside him.  Doctor Jackson looked unwell.  His face was gaunt and very pale, a slight sheen of perspiration coating the skin.  His eyes were pinched as if he was in pain.

_He has to be hurting, both physically and emotionally_ Walter thought. _He just had the emergency appendectomy a few days ago.   Should he even be away from the Infirmary?_ The technician wanted to do or say something to offer hope and give comfort to the civilian, but nothing presented itself.  

"Major Davis, my office.  We need to discuss strategy and liaison with the Pentagon.  I’m ordering Def Con Three to remain in effect and lock down the base.  All SGC personnel are to continue to stand ready.”

"Very good, sir.”

Both officers departed leaving Walter busy tapping in commands to his computer. If they were going to bring in, setup and activate the Beta gate, he had a lot of preparatory work ahead of him. A movement out the corner of his eye distracted him.  Doctor Jackson had removed his radio head set letting it slip from lax fingers to clank on the console.  He followed this by removing his glasses and resting his damp forehead in his right hand, elbow propped on the countertop for support.  Walter noticed the left hand holding the glasses was quivering.

"Is there anything I can get for you, Doctor Jackson?" he asked. Only after, did he realize the context of what his question involved.  Sure, just get his team back, safe and alive.  No problem.

In response to the query, Daniel lifted his head and replaced the glasses on his face. Walter could see the man physically struggle to regain his composure.  

The scientist looked at the sergeant, the tiny grin of false assurance ghosting his haunted face.

"I'm fine, sergeant, thank you."  He turned away to gaze into the now 'gateless Embarkation Room.

Walter continued to study the man's profile and doubted Doctor Jackson was anything but fine.  For three years, the sergeant had witnessed how much physical and emotional pain could be hidden behind the steely resolve residing behind the unassuming facade of the brilliant archeologist.  In that instant, he vowed to do whatever was required of him to get the Beta gate functioning and reunite SG-1 with their temporarily abandoned fourth member.

****

The hours passed quickly.  Sergeant Davis was busy coordinating with the other support technicians rushing into and out of the control room.  He happened to glance up from his keyboard when a loud rumbling reverberated down to the crowded Embarkation Room.  The long dormant overhead missile silo doors were sliding open. Apparently the Beta Gate had arrived topside, liberated from its storage warehouse at Area 51. Walter had not been assigned to the Stargate Project when the original gate had been brought from Washington DC and placed in the decommissioned silo.  He’d been told it had taken over twenty-four hours to lower the massive ring down the twenty-eight levels to rest in the room below.  

Sergeant Davis’ musings were interrupted when numerous technicians entered the crowded control room, all talking simultaneously.  They were preparing to rewire computers and other equipment essential to the operation of the Stargate.  

A tap on Davis’ left shoulder caused him to turn around. Sergeant Siler indicated with a nod of his head he wanted the other technician to accompany him.   

The two sergeants moved into a secluded corner of the control room as the hustle and bustle flowed around them.

"Sergeant," Siler began, "we need to work at the console where Doctor Jackson is sitting."

Both soldiers looked at the man in question.  Doctor Jackson was now hunched forward, leaning against the console, his left arm cradling his mid section, his head once again resting in his right hand.  Even in the odd lighting of the room, they could see he was as white as a sheet.

"Well, I can't tell him he has to leave.  I can't do that to him," Walter confessed.

"I know.  Me either," Siler admitted.  "Ask the general or send for Doctor Fraiser?” the senior technician suggested.   “He looks ready to pass out.'

Since Walter considered the control room his domain, the decision rested with him.  "All right. You watch him.   I'll go inform the general."

Davis hurried around the swarming technicians and clambered up the staircase. He was well trained in how to pass responsibility for unpleasant decisions up the chain of command. Walter knew if he had told Doctor Jackson to leave, he’d never be able to look the civilian in the eye again, especially since the good doctor had been nothing but polite and considerate of the technician since their introductory meeting.  

Sergeant Davis entered the briefing room and noted General Hammond and Major Davis were still conducting their strategy session in the general's office. He stood ramrod straight before the closed door but did not hesitate to knock.

Hammond's "Come!" was sharp and commanding.

Davis obeyed, entering the office.

"What's the status on the Beta gate, Sergeant?"

"Beta gate has arrived topside sir.  We're ready to start rewiring and connecting the system while its being lowered into the Embarkation Room.  That's why I'm here, sir."

"Go on."

"Well, sir," Walter faltered, looking guilty.  "Sir, Doctor Jackson is still in the control room. We need to have access to the console where he's sitting.  And frankly, sir, I don't have the heart to tell him he's in the way.  Sir."  Walter felt his face flush.  "He doesn't look well, General.”

"I see your dilemma."  Hammond said with no recriminations.  He lifted the handset of his desk phone.  "Get me Doctor Fraiser," he ordered.  A minute passed.  "Doctor. You need to come to the control room and retrieve Doctor Jackson."  A longer pause ensued.  "No, I wasn't aware of that.  Come and collect your patient.  I'll be waiting for you in the control room."  Hammond replaced the phone then addressed the two waiting officers.   "Doctor Fraiser will be here shortly,” he announced. The base commander stood and led his two junior officers into the control room.

Walter allowed the general to proceed, relieved the responsibility of informing the archeologist he had to vacate the premises was no longer his.

A few harried minutes passed before the distinctive click click of her heels echoed on the concrete floor, marking Janet’s hurried but calm trek to the control room.  She had been expecting a summons similar to the general’s for several hours.   She also realized the base CO would demand an explanation as to why and how she allowed Daniel to be so long absent from the infirmary during this latest crisis.  

As expected, the physician arrived in the frenetic control room to be greeted by the general, clustered with Major Davis and Sergeants Siler and Davis. 

“Doctor, an explanation please?” Hammond asked as her worried eyes drifted to the hunched form sitting at the console.

“Yes, sir.  I promised Major Carter I’d tell Doctor Jackson when he awoke why SG-1 had to leave without him. I was, however, very adamant Daniel needed to rest and was to remain in the infirmary.  Fifteen minutes later one of my nurses summoned me. Apparently Daniel had gotten dressed and was trying to leave.  Only an SF was preventing him from doing so.”  At Hammonds stern look, Janet sighed and slipped her hands into her lab coat pockets.  “You know Daniel, sir. It was either allow him to come with a promise not to overexert himeslf or sedate him and use restraints. That latter is an option I’d only use as a last resort, especially after the Ma'Chello incident.   I was, perhaps incorrectly, relying on others to inform me if Daniel was in difficulty.”  Her reasoning given, as weak of an excuse it was, Janet waited for the general to pass judgment.  

Hammond’s rounded features softened as he nodded.  “I understand, doctor.  But Doctor Jackson has become a hindrance.”

“I’ll escort him to the VIP room, prescribe a sedative and severe scolding. At least with the medication and his weakened endurance, he’ll sleep for quite awhile.”   Hammond approved of her solution and indicated with a tip of his head she should proceed.

Janet approached the hunched figure of the archeologist and rested a hand on his left shoulder.

“Daniel.”

He immediately jerked and straightened.  “I’m fine,” Daniel automatically declared, red-rimed eyes trying to locate and focus on her.

“No, you’re not,” Janet disagreed.  “I want you to come with me to the VIP room.”  When Daniel opened his mouth to protest, Janet raised a finger, something she’d noticed in the past worked for Colonel O’Neill. “You’re exhausted.   You promised me you wouldn’t push yourself,” she scolded, reminding Daniel of their verbal agreement.  She glanced to the gathered military personnel before vocalizing her ace card.  “I’ve also been informed your presence here has become a problem.  The technicians need access to this console to do their job.”

She turned to Sergeant Siler, seeking his support and spreading the guilt. 

The senior technician cleared his throat, uneasy with being put on the spot. “Yes, ma’am.   Ah Doctor Jackson, sir, we do need access.”

“Now, you don’t want to be responsible for delaying activation of the Beta gate, do you?” Janet quickly added, knowing she was purposefully attacking Daniel at his most vulnerable point.  It was a cruel thing to say, but it was affective.  Daniel immediately looked contrite.  “I’m sure SG-1 wants to come home as soon as possible.”

The physician knew exactly when Daniel capitulated.   His stiffened posture crumbled, and his head lowered in exhaustion.  He put a trembling hand on the console and with her assistance, levered himself up to waver beside her.  As petite as she was compared to the taller archeologist, Janet was the perfect height to offer support, draping Daniel’s right arm over her shoulders.  With her hands resting on his waist, they slowly walked out of the crowded room.  

They were joined by two SFs, courtesy of General Hammond, who would occasionally offer a steadying hand on their journey to the VIP room. Arriving at their destination, Janet guided Daniel to the bed.  They waited a moment as the SFs quickly drew back the covers before easing her fast fading patient onto the sheet-covered mattress.  She knew Daniel’s endurance was gone and he was on the verge of collapsing. With practiced ease, she slipped the blue work shirt off.  The usually fiercely independent Daniel didn’t offer a peep of protest.   Janet helped him settled into the bed before removing his boots. Janet sat at Daniel’s side, fingers around his wrist taking his pulse, slightly rapid but steady. She frowned at his pallor. Satisfied with her minimum diagnoses, she hiked up his T-shirt.  Daniel looked at her with weary eyes but said nothing.

“Let me check my handiwork.”  The recent incision in his right abdomen was red and puckered but all her tiny metal staples were in place, and there was no evidence of trauma to the healing skin. Satisfied Janet lowered the T-shirt and pulled the covers over Daniel, tucking the edges around his shoulders and under his chin.

A quick phone call to the infirmary initiated the procurement of the soon-to-be-delivered sedative.  Janet replaced the phone and looked at her patient.  Daniel was staring away from her.  She gently rubbed his arm hidden under the covers.

“I know you want to help them, Daniel,” she began.   He rolled his head towards her.  “And the best way you can do that is to take care of yourself. How will they feel when they get back and find you in worse condition than when they left?”

She knew Daniel was considering her argument as she gently lifted the glasses from his face and placed them on the bedside table.  

“Do you believe they ‘gated off the ship before it crashed?” Daniel asked, his voice hoarse and weary.

Janet resumed massaging his arm.  She heard the desperation in his question, the need to have someone assure him his friends were not dead, just inconvenienced for a short time. “Until it’s proven otherwise, beyond a doubt, yes I do,” Janet answered. She did believe it.   “SG-1 has this uncanny ability to beat the odds.” She grinned.

“I should be with them,” Daniel sighed.  

“I know you believe that, but given your current physical condition, its not realistic, is it?”  

Daniel nodded once.  

“I’m certain they miss you too, but I think they’re relieved you’re here, safe. Knowing you’re waiting to be reunited should give them incentive to find their way home, don’t you think?”

Daniel closed his eyes and shuddered.  One of her nurses arrived with the hypodermic containing the sedative. Janet flicked the covers and professionally swabbed an area on Daniel’s right bicep then administered the shot. Empty needle returned to the nurse, both departed.  Doctor and patient were again alone.

“Now, you promise to take care of yourself, resting and eating, following doctor’s orders?”

Eyes still closed, Daniel nodded his compliance.

“And you promise to stay out of everyone’s way while they work?”

“Yes,” he sighed, heavy lids half covering tired reddened blue eyes. 

“And while _we_ wait,” Janet emphasized, “remember you’re not alone, Daniel, you hear me?   You need to talk or just have some company, I’m here.”

Daniel ghosted a grin as the sedative began to take effect, closing his eyes. “Thank you,” he breathed then drifted into sleep.   

Janet remained sitting at his side for a long time watching him sleep. What she’d told the general earlier was more than true.  Where Daniel was concerned, she had to tread lightly.  It 

had taken months after the Ma’Chello incident for Daniel to agree to her resuming her duties as his physician.  She was still earning his trust, re-establishing their doctor-patient relationship. Forcibly restraining him now during this crisis, even if it were for his own  well being, would have been cruel in her opinion. As a physician she was sworn to heal and ease pain, not be the cause of it.  At least now, Daniel was asleep and would sleep through the night and hopefully long into the following day.  When he awoke maybe there would be some good news to greet him.

The physician stood.  Clicking the bedside lamp to low illumination, she exited nodding to the SFs stationed inside. They understood she was to be summoned if there were unforeseen difficulties or when Daniel awoke.

“Please Sam. You, the colonel and Teal’c come home as quickly as you can,” Janet whispered her prayer as she entered the elevator.

****

Day 3, P3X-234

“So, Carter.” 

Jack’s call distracted Sam from watching the three silver foiled packets bobbing in the pan of boiling water, nestled in coals harvested from their impressive campfire.  

SG-1, sans one member, had spent the past two days scrounging the vicinity for wood to maintain their fire, cutting and stripping saplings to construct their primitive, but sturdy lean-to shelter, replenishing their canteens from the nearby stream and foraging for edible plants and berries. The activity had kept them busily intent on meeting their survival needs and distracting them from worry about their missing fourth.  Tasks completed, they had time on their hands.  Jack had immediately begun fretting about Daniel’s health and well-being.

Carter looked towards her CO, encouraging him to continue his thought. 

“How exactly was Daniel before you and Teal’c beamed aboard Thor’s ship?”

“Janet assured me he would recover fully, sir.  She also promised to take care of him.”

“Yeah.” Jack picked up a stick and absently held the far end into the flames watching it burn to ash and fall into the fire. “He finally fessed up his appendix had been bothering him for over two weeks, starting a few days after we got back from Kheb.  He didn’t say anything since he thought it was indigestion caused by losing Nick and the boy so recently.”

“Well, you know Daniel; he never complains,” Sam reminded, her gaze and attention again focused on the cooking MREs.”

Tossing the stick into the flames, Jack leaned back, arms and hands splayed out to brace himself.  He looked skyward, as the purple alien heavens darkened to black and the first stars began to sparkle in the twilight.  It would be another clear night, perfect for unimpeded stargazing.  It didn’t matter these star grouping were completely different from the familiar constellations in Earth’s nighttime sky.   Jack simply created his own.  It usually distracted him from dwelling on Daniel and other unpleasant memories.  Usually. Tonight he doubted stargazing would offer much solace. 

“Dinner is served.” 

Carter’s announcement encouraged Jack to abandoned his somber thoughts and straighten.  He watched Carter skillfully fish out the individual packets and offer one each to Teal’c and himself.  The Jaffa accepted his gift of food with a respectful tilt of his head.  

“Ummm, beef stew,” Jack pronounced working to open the packet.

“Indeed. This food preparation is most gratifying.”

The two humans favored their alien companion with double ‘Are you kidding’ looks.

“This is the last of our MRE rations, sir,” Carter reminded forking out her first mouthful of the prepackaged meal.  “I’ve been thinking,” she continued after chewing and swallowing. “We could gate to P5X-7865 and join up with SG-15.  Their field survey was expected to continue for another week.  They would have extra provisions, not to mention the added safety in numbers aspect.”

“Let’s keep that reserved as Plan B.  That may become an option if we’re still here a week from now, which is not going to happen.  Where’s your sense of adventure, Mjor?  Haven’t you been having fun exploring the lakes and natural beauty of P3X wherever we are?” Jack teased stirring his warmed meal.  “Besides, I have every confidence in two days we’ll dial up Earth and go home.”  He shoveled his first serving of the warmed, freeze-dried stew into his mouth.  

“And if we can’t establish a wormhole?”

“Ah, Carter, quit being so negative.”

“I’m trying not to be, sir, only realistic.”

“Okay. If, on the other hand, nothing happens, I plan on providing us with a fish dinner to end all fish diners,” Jack bragged.

“Looks like you may get that fishing trip in after all, sir.”

“Yeah sure you betcha.  This is definitely not Minnesota, but…invitation’s still open.  Care to join me?  Here or on Earth?”

”It’s tempting, sir but I’ll pass.  If the ‘gate won’t activate, I plan on making good use of that eddy pool we found.”  Sam raked her fingers through her stiff, dirty blond hair.  “I need a bath.  In fact, if we are here past our initial dial-in, sir, I’d---“

“Ah ah ah,” Jack interrupted hand holding the plastic fork raised in warning, “Don’t even suggest it.  We are going home day after tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But, in case Carter’s negativity comes through,   Teal’c?  Fishing?”

“I must decline, O’Neill.  Tomorrow I will endeavor to procure one of the grazing animals to provide repast for several days.”

“So, what you’re both saying is neither of you think the Beta gate will be up and running yet.”

Teal’c arched one eyebrow, signaling his continued confusion of the use of Tau’ri slang. “I was not aware Stargates had the ability to run, O’Neill.”

“Never mind.  So, this making like Jaffa Tarzan has something to do with that chin fuzz there?” O’Neill asked, pointing to the barely discernable nubs of hair adorning Teal’c’s chin.

“It is a mark to designate I am undertaking a ritual of survival. If a Jaffa is stranded on a planet during battle, he will immediately begin to grow the mark.   Its fullness will signify the length of time he survived until rescue.  It is a mark of endurance.”  Teal’c straightened his shoulders, an indication he was proud to undertake this challenge.

“Ooookay. Whatever you say big guy.” Jack didn’t believe an iota of Teal’c’s explanation but decided to let the matter slide for now. He absently scratched at his own facial stubble.  He refused to go skinny dipping but he could at least shave while marooned in this planetary paradise.  “So, anyone care to speculate on how Daniel’s doing?”

Carter glanced at her wristwatch.  “Well, sir, we’ve been gone over seventy two hours.  Surely by now Daniel is aware of what happened.”

“He’s probably annoying the hell out of everyone, goading them to work faster,” Jack mused.

“DanielJackson is a driven man, O’Neill.  I believe he is doing whatever is asked of him to facilitate our retrieval.”

“Or, he’s isolated himself and worrying way more than he should be,” Carter suggested.

Jack scowled at the last remains of his stew puddled in the bottom of the foil container.  In that instant his optimism vanished, replaced by angst of the unknown status of the absent Daniel. “He should not have to go through this waiting game again. Once was enough after we blew Apophis’ mother ships to smithereens.”  

“Despite what I said, I’m certain he’s being well cared for, sir.” 

Carter’s quick assurance did nothing to assuage Jack’s worry.   

“The question, Carter, is Daniel allowing himself to be well cared for?”

Neither of his two companions had a ready answer.  Nighttime on P3X-234 ebbed closer. 

His black mood deepening with the coming night, Jack crushed and tossed aside his empty MRE packet.  “Carter, that Stargate had damn well better work day after tomorrow,” he groused, standing, stretching to work the kinks out of his knees and lower back. 

“Yes, sir,” Carter agreed with voiced confidence.

“I’m going to that boulder to stargaze.  Be back in a few hours.”

“Yes, sir.”

Understanding his unspoken need for privacy and solitude, neither Teal’c nor Carter commented on the wisdom of separating on an alien world.

****

# Day 3  SGC

Major Davis accompanied General Hammond following the conclusion of their briefing with the SGC team leaders held in the Level 16-conference room. The ordered lock-down of the base would continue, effectively imprisoning everyone, military and civilian alike, within the subterranean complex.  

The two soldiers entered the Briefing Room on route to Hammond’s office to discuss the status of the Beta gate over forty-eight hours after its arrival in the gate room.  Already the technicians were having difficulty incorporating the ‘gate’s operation into their existing computer system.  Not willing to experiment with the DHD, mainly because no one knew how to, this was a problem they would have to solve.  There was a cadre of technicians, both military and civilian, poring over the computer files Major Carter kept on Stargate operations, but the reality was they needed her expertise to facilitate a smooth procedural process. Unfortunately, according to Sergeant Siler, this would greatly delay getting the Beta gate operational. 

Rubbing his eyes as he walked, Hammond barely glanced at the window overlooking the bustling ‘gate room.  Then he halted, Davis beside him.  Something had caught his eye so he looked again.  He was tired, overworked and overburdened, but his weary eyes hadn’t tricked him. There was a figure sitting beside the window, slump shouldered and exuding an aura of abandonment and loneliness.  It was Doctor Jackson.

Hammond stepped away and tilted his head, indicating Davis should follow him into this office.  Once inside, he shut the door but could clearly see Daniel through the viewing glass. 

“Major Davis, have you ever been on the receiving end of a Colonel O’Neill tirade?” he asked the younger officer.

“No, sir, I can’t say that I have.”

“Believe me, son, you never want to.  Now this may seem trivial to you but when Colonel O’Neill and the rest of SG-1 return, alive,” he emphasized, “I’ll have to explain to them how we allowed Doctor Jackson to worry himself into a very prolonged stay in the infirmary. Starting now, I want you to organize the personnel on base into a 24-hour rotation with their prime objective to care for Doctor Jackson.  I want him resting when he should be resting, eating when he should be eating and otherwise occupied.  Under no circumstances is he to be left alone to brood.  Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir, clearly understood.  I am aware this facility and this program would not even be in existence if not for Doctor Jackson.”

“Very true,” Hammond agreed. His stern features softened as he once again focused on the solitary figure at the observation window.  “Colonel O’Neill once said Doctor Jackson is the conscience of the SGC. I wouldn’t want that young man’s voice or his conscience silenced.  I’ll take responsability for feeding him tonight then seeing that he’s tucked in.”

“Very good, sir.  I doubt there will be a lack of volunteers,” Davis observed.

“Damn right.  Dismissed.”

Davis saluted smartly and departed via the office’s second door to get started on his new assignment.  Hammond was confident the young officer would develop a rotation schedule even Colonel O’Neill would envy.  He moved to his desk and lifted the phone.  While he spoke, George’s worried eyes never wavered from the archeologist.   

_How long does it take to lower several tons of Stargate through twenty-eight levels of a decommissioned missile silo?_ Daniel mused as he watched the technicians scurrying around the recently seated Beta gate. _Apparently around twenty-four hours_ he silently answered his own question. 

It had been over three days, going on four, since Jack, Sam and Teal’c had beamed aboard Thor’s replicator infested ship.  Over three days since the Alpha gate had disappeared in a flash of white light.  Over three days of not knowing if his friends were alive or…

No, not going there.  Eyes unseeing of the frenetic activity below, Daniel’s mind fixated again on the only acceptable outcome:  Jack, Sam and Teal’c had beamed the ‘gate to Thor’s ship and gated to…somewhere. They were alive and safe and patiently waiting to come home.  Well, Sam and Teal’c, patiently…well definitely Teal’c.  Kel-nor-reem, right.  Jack…not patiently waiting.

Elbows resting on the tiny edge of the window frame, Daniel lowered his face into his hands.  For once he could understand Jack’s need to be constantly in motion, to be doing something. This waiting was intolerable. The unknowing was unbearable. He had to endure this once before after the destruction of Apophis’ two mother ships.  The only difference was that time he had believed Jack, Sam and Teal’c were dead.  It had taken will power he didn’t know he possessed to pull himself from the black pit of despair he had fallen into when told his teammates were in fact alive, rescued by the space shuttle.  They did it once before; they could do it again.  _They have to be alive. They have to be alive_ the mantra resumed.  How many times had he repeated this statement during this seemingly never-ending vigil? He’d lost count.     

Daniel lifted his head and straightened his posture in the chair, cautiously rolling his shoulders and his neck to relax tense muscles.   Warning twinges from his still healing incision suggested he’d done enough stretching.  

His eyes located Sergeant Siler, busy directing his competent technicians in their work.  They were going around the clock, aware the fate of SG-1 was unknown but also well aware two other SG teams were currently stranded off world with no way of getting home. When Daniel finally awoke early this afternoon from the effects of Janet’s powerful sedative, he was politely informed, that while it was understood he meant well, it would be appreciated if he did not hover in the control room.  In other words, stay out of the way.

After half-heartedly eating a late lunch, Daniel retreated to his lab. Usually burying himself in his translations or speculations of the function or purpose of artifacts or alien devices kept him occupied.  Not this time. He was too worried and too exhausted to concentrate on his work.  The aggravation from his healing incision only compounded his anxiety, the appendectomy the cause of his current predicament.   So here he sat.  It was irrational; it was insane.  But he had to be here.  As he’d told General Hammond during the Beliskner crisis, he felt he had to be here because he couldn’t be where he should be, with Jack, Sam and Teal’c, working together as a team overcoming all challenges facing them wherever they were at the moment.

_They have to be alive_  Daniel mentally declared, using the belief to clamp down yet another heart wrenching jolt to his soul. _They have to be alive._

Already in this past year he’d lost Sha’re.  He so recently lost Nick.  Sha’re’s son was safe with Oma Desalla.  If he lost Jack, Sam and Teal’c, who and what would he have left?   His work, yes, but the work couldn’t fill the void if the unspeakable had happened to his teammates.  He’d be alone again.  Daniel feared being alone.  Again.

No, Daniel amended his thoughts.  He may have already lost Jack.  The no foundation thing.  Yes, Jack had apologized in his own way, Daniel had accepted, and they had tentatively resumed exploring their friendship.  But it wasn’t the same, and both men knew it.  They still spoke to one another; they performed with practiced efficiency their learned roles on off world missions.   But it was different now.  A distance existed between them.  A kernel of uneasiness remained because although Daniel could forgive, he could not forget.  He continued to harbor a deep rooted anger at himself for allowing Jack to play on his weaknesses, for being so transparent, Jack had known precisely how to hurt him and blaming himself for apparently not knowing Jack as equally well to not realize the tactics the man was using to fulfill his covert ops mission. Jack realized this. Fortunately, the older man also realized he would be making amends to Daniel for a long time, forever. Or, now, maybe not. That’s why Jack had invited Daniel to go fishing in Minnesota.  But, as usual, sometimes with Jack, the man’s timing was…off.  Daniel believed it was because Jack found it so very difficult to ever admit he was wrong and even harder to apologize for his mistakes. But the invitation had been given. Until Daniel was physically able to accept it, it remained an open invitation.  At least, he hoped so.  Daniel realized despite this unfortunate situation, Jack remained his best friend and he believed Jack felt the same about him.  The friendship was damaged but repairable.   All the two of them needed was some down time, disguised as a fishing trip to Minnesota, private time-shared by only the two of them, to mend the friendship.  His friends promised to come back to him.  Sam emphatically told Janet this.  So they damn well better come back…alive.

Daniel sighed again cradling his face in his hands.  Temporarily banishing his anxieties to a hidden place in his soul, he resumed his mantra.  _They have to be alive. They have to be alive.  They have to be alive._

Phone conversation completed, Hammond exited is office.   He entered the Briefing Room and approached the seated civilian.  He glanced at the busting activity below then looked down at Daniel, resting a grandfatherly hand on the young man’s shoulder.  “Doctor Jackson?  Shouldn’t you be resting,” he said softly.

Daniel started at the unexpected greeting, his wane face grimacing from a brief flare in his side warning him sudden movements were not a good idea. 

Weary blue eyes behind the clear lenses flickered up in brief recognition, before returning to their vigil of watching the activity below. “I’m fine, sir.   I need to be here. I’m not in the way.   Please, don’t order me to leave.”

“Wouldn’t think of it.  Care for some company, son?”

”Don’t you have meetings, or something?" Daniel trailed off weakly, waving his hand.

Hammond didn’t give an immediate answer.  Instead, he pulled over one of the Briefing Room chairs and sat down.  “The welfare of those under my command supercedes any military protocol, Doctor Jackson.” This was emphasized when the grandfatherly hand returned to Daniel’s left shoulder and remained there. “Doctor Jackson, everything that can be done is being done.  Wearing yourself to a frazzle won’t get the process completed any faster.   Even if SG-1 ‘gated off Thor’s ship---“

“They did,” Daniel interrupted him emphatically.  He looked toward the general. “I hope they did,’ he repeated, a trace of uncertainty edging his words.  He again looked into the Embarkation Room.  “Do you believe they’re alive?”

Hammond squeezed the tense shoulder beneath his hand.  “I learned a long time ago never to give up on SG-1. The four of you have a habit of pulling off miracles, whether individually or as a team.  Until I’m shown irrefutable proof to the contrary, I believe they are alive.”

“Janet said the same.  I only know I can’t go on with out them.”

Hammond wasn’t surprised by this declaration.  He was more surprised the archeologist had even voiced it knowing the young man kept his personal feelings very personal, especially where it concerned the members of SG-1.  The desolation and hopelessness he heard in Daniel’s voice justified his growing concern for this civilian who had found a place in this old Texan’s affections.  If O’Neill, Carter and Teal’c had died in the fireball splashing into the Pacific, Hammond feared the emotional toll would cripple Doctor Jackson and he would be lost as well.     It was a scenario George did not want to participate in but he had to anticipate nonetheless.   He offered a silent prayer to God to please bring the missing members of SG-1 home, alive. 

“I understand,” George responded.  “But I want you to remember, myself, Doctor Fraiser, everyone in this command may be a poor substitute, but you’re not alone, son.  That will never happen as long as I command here.”

Daniel nodded weakly.  The two men remained silent and watchful until their solitude was disturbed by the clatter of an airman pushing a wheeled cart into the spacious room.

_Finally_ , the general thought.  “When was the last time you ate, son?”

A few seconds passed before Daniel glanced toward Hammond. “Ahh,…I’m sorry.   What was the question?’ he asked.

“I said, come and join me for dinner.”

“Dinner?” Daniel repeated his face a blank.

“Yes, Doctor, dinner,” Hammond repeated as he stood, his hand not leaving Daniel’s shoulder.  “Consider that an order.”

That apparently found its way through the fog.

“Umm..Okay…dinner. Right.”  Using the window ledge, Daniel maneuvered himself upward.

Hammond lifted his hand away not wanting to impede the archeologist’s momentum. “How’s the incision?” George asked to keep the conversation moving.

“Oh, Janet says its healing as long as I don‘t exert myself.”

“And have you been following her orders?”

“I’ve been trying to, sir.”  Daniel’s grin was more of a grimace.

Hammond noted the discomfort, chose to remain silent, and lead the way to the oval wooden table.  A tantalizing aroma permeated the air as Hammond nodded his dismissal to the airman who departed taking the now empty cart with him.  The general indicated Daniel should sit in the chair to his right, facing away from the Embarkation Room as he eased into his accustomed place at the head of the table.  He lifted the metal lids covering the two trays to reveal the prepared meal beneath.

“Ah, I’ve never seen this offered in the commissary before,” Daniel commented eyeing the warmed plate of chicken fried steak, a heaping pile of fried okra nested beside another steaming pile of fluffy mashed potatoes covered in melted butter and sour cream along with two plates of apple pie and two tall frosted glasses of iced tea.  .

“It’s not.  One of the perks of sitting in this chair is occasionally I have the chef prepare me a real home cooked meal.  And since I intend to remain in Doctor Fraiser’s good graces and not wanting to insult the cook, I intend on delivering two empty plates to the commissary.”   George arched his eyebrows, awaiting confirmation Doctor Jackson understood his message.

The archeologist “ohhed,” and took up his fork.  Message received.  

The two men dined in silence.  George keenly watched Daniel dutifully lift forkfuls of food into his mouth. He doubted the young man even tasted it, but at least he was eating.  

After three years of association, George realized Daniel Jackson remained an enigma.  In his military career he’d had very little contact with civilian consultants, and those few, George considered irritating, unmanageable and annoying.  He pretty much thought the same when the archeologist, involuntarily returned to Earth, came striding through the reactivated Stargate and rudely interrupted Colonel O’Neill’s report.  With some embarrassment he recalled his first encounter with the archeologist. The man, dressed in smelly, dusty homespun robes, mop hair disheveled; glasses awry had demanded to join the team going through the gate.  Affronted, and unaccustomed to people addressing him without permission, George declared Doctor Jackson smelled like a goat and banished him from his sight. He’d lost track of Daniel after that, not seeing him again until the following morning wearing Jack's one-size-too-large hand me downs but still demanding he was going with SG-1 through the Stargate. Since then the humble, yet passionate, young man sitting beside him had earned George’s respect and admiration. Daniel Jackson’s irritating stubbornness had served this command well over these past three years, along with his loyalty to SG1, his refusal to give up and find a preferred peaceful solution to any problem, his desire to explore and learn meaning of life stuff, and as George had reminded Major Davis, his unwavering stance in doing the right, moral thing.  Somehow, Daniel had found his way into George’s affections and the older man realized, the archeologist was totally unaware of this.  Now, despite the circumstances, might be a good time to correct the oversight. It may distract the young man from his fears and perhaps, offer some comfort.

Clearing his throat, George spoke.  “I’m reminded, Doctor Jackson, when we first met, we didn’t exactly start off on the right footing.”

As hoped, Daniel’s shy grin flickered.  “Well, sir, that’s understandable.  I mean, well, Jack’s often reminded me I wasn’t exactly subtle, and I showed no respect whatsoever for either you, or your rank, sir.”

George was amused but kept it hidden.  That may have been true in the beginning, but he was the only officer in the SGC Doctor Jackson addressed as ‘sir.’

“Its one of the things I like about you, Doctor Jackson.   I’ve never taken the opportunity to tell you, this program would not be here if not for you.  I’ve come to admire you, son, a great deal, and I’ve never given you enough of the recognition you deserve.”

Daniel’s pale face blushed a deep crimson as he ducked his head, breaking eye contact in the manner George had so often witnessed when Jack had praised the archeologist.  

“Um, well, um,” Daniel, stuttered.  “Thank you, sir.  That means a lot to me,” he managed to say continuing to stare at his half eaten meal. 

“I’ve become very fond of you, Daniel.”  As George hoped, the use of Daniel’s first name caught the linguist’s notice. He lifted his head and looked squarely at George.  “I’m here to help you through this situation in any way I can.  You don’t have to shoulder this burden alone.  My door is always open to you, son, especially now. You need anything; don’t hesitate to come to me.  Is that understood?” George added the right level of command in his tone.

“Yes, sir.”

"We’re all here for you, son.”

Daniel nodded before directing his gaze to his half-full plate. Apparently, George thought, he’d done the impossible:  the man was speechless.  Jack would never believe it.

Sobering, George remained silent, following the archeologist’s lead and resumed eating.  He hoped Daniel understood he was not alone, even with SG-1 missing in action.   The young man had lost too many loved ones already this past year.  During the Beliskner crisis, George told the young man he understood his sense of self-guilt generated from being left behind, having ordered those brave soldiers under his command through the Stargate while he remained here awaiting the outcome of each and every dangerous mission.  Waiting and praying everyone returned alive and unharmed.  Daniel was not alone in this waiting game.   None of them were. 

*****

# Day 5, P3X-234

With steady hands, Sam depressed the glyphs initiating the dialing sequence for Earth.  Only moments before, they had successfully dialed up Cimmeria, so they knew their Stargate was functional.   The GDO was clutched in her other hand waiting to send the iris code.  Mentally crossing her fingers, she depressed the final point of origin glyph and held her breath. The whining gate quieted. The glowing chevrons faded. A rippling silver blue wormhole never materialized within the stone ring.  The disappointment felt by the three figures gathered around the DHD was palatable in stark contrast to the bright morning silence bathing P3X-234.

Sam turned toward her CO.  “I could try again, sir,” she suggested, her hand already resting on the first glyph.

“And you will, major.  Same time, same place tomorrow.”

Orders given, O’Neill spun around and stomped into the nearest copse of trees headed for the fishing hole he had staked out as his private place of solitude. 

“O’Neill is disappointed, as am I,” Teal’c declared.

“Me, too,” Sam exhaled.  She stared longingly at the DHD and its companion Stargate.  She barely heard Teal’c drift away, to conduct his habitual perimeter recon before foraging for food and whatever else he was doing to pass the days.  Sam slipped the GDO into her vest pocket and headed for her own place of solitude.   Separating on an alien planet was not SOP, but the three of them needed this isolation.  Besides, they were all armed, and they all had functioning radios.   Geographically they were not that far apart. Emotionally and mentally they were all back at the SGC worrying about Daniel.

Sam lazily backstroked through the cool, refreshing water, watching the sun ripple through the trees swaying in the mild breeze.  It was peaceful here.  That was the primary observation SG-5 made when they conducted the planetary survey nearly six months ago.  Peaceful, primitive, no signs of human or alien habitation, current or past. A paradise.  The scientists in their botany program were still enmeshed in their version of scientific euphoria categorizing the samples of native flora collected.  None, however, had proven useful for medicinal or any other uses so far but Sam had talked to one of the female botanist over lunch recently and recalled their studies had determined the plant life here was edible and not hazardous to human health. In other words, it was a paradise, a true Eden, the name the planet had been christened.

Floating to the shore, Sam emerged from the water.  She sat on a sun warmed flat-topped rock, combed her fingers through her dripping hair and allowed the comfortable air and sun to gradually dry her skin.  If she was nervous about being on full display in her birthday suit, laying her hand on the P90 stilled it.

No, her thoughts were elsewhere, billions of miles elsewhere: on Daniel.  If she knew Daniel, and after three years of working, suffering and caring for her scientist soul mate, she knew he was beside himself with worry, probably giving Janet fits.  God, Sam sighed, leaning forward to rest her forehead on bent knees. No one at the SGC knew they were alive. It was a fifty fifty proposition. Everyone at the SGC believed SG-1, sans their fourth, had perished in the fiery crash of the Beliskner into the Pacific Ocean.  

If only the ‘gate had worked this morning.  Unwilling to repeat the anxiety and frustration she and the colonel experienced during their jaunt to the Antarctica, she had decided to dial in the coordinates to Cimmeria first.  When the gate engaged and established a wormhole, they ascertained this Stargate functioned.  So, via somewhat curtailed scientific elimination, when Earth’s coordinates did not establish a wormhole the problem resided on Earth.  Her five-day estimate for the Beta gate to become functional had been a bit---overoptimistic.  To put it mildly, the three of them were very disappointed.  

Sam instinctively knew the colonel was as worried, perhaps even more, about the current unknown physical and emotional state of their missing fourth member. God it was so unfair her mind screamed. She had never known anyone to suffer so much heartache and all of it undeserved.  Daniel was the sweetest, kindest, gentlest soul she had ever encountered.  In this past year alone she had to witness Daniel’s pain and grief as they had abandoned him to the Mental Health facility with a mistaken diagnosis of schizophrenia, only to be compounded by the death of Sha’re, then losing both his estranged grandfather Nick, and Sha’re’s son, the latter two within the past two months. Now he was alone, separated from the three people he had come to accept as his dearest friends.   What if they couldn’t get the Beta gate operational? What then?  

Daniel shouldn’t have to wait that long, Sam reminded herself, an echo of the declaration she had given to Janet while building the particle beam accelerator to rescue the colonel when he was stranded on Edora.   Sam stood and slowly dressed, her nose wrinkling from the slight odor of unwashed clothing.  If they were not off this planet within the next few days, she was going to suggest to the colonel they gate to Vorash, and demand the Tok’Ra take them to Earth in a teltak.  She was damned if Daniel as going to have to wait one second longer than necessary for them to return home to him.

***** 

Jack lazily cast out the line of his crudely made fishing pole. The pebble weighted end plopped into the water pulled by the slow moving current.  Since he hadn’t found something to use as a hook, he didn’t expect to be providing a fish for tonight’s meal.  So either the great hunter Teal’c brought them a dead carcass or they would dine on berries and grass.  Ya sure you betcha.

Damn it, why does this shit always happen he silently raged. Jack casually scanned his surroundings, P90 at his side prepared if any threat presented itself.   His Black Op trained instincts still in safe mode, he returned to gazing at the crystal clear water flowing by.  Deep introspection was not a Jack O’Neill trait. But apparently he now had some downtime on his hands.  To avoid being bored to death, he’d do anything; even get in touch with his inner self.

He pulled up the pole and recast the line.  The act of fishing was created for the sole purpose of doing nothing.  He couldn’t sit around all day listening to Carter theorize about what had gone wrong with the set up of the Beta ‘gate, what could be done to correct it and yadda, yadda. She didn’t have Daniel here to babble to and no way in hell was he volunteering to be the stand in geek. He’d rather be bored. Physically, he was, but his mind was anything but.

Damn it, Daniel.  He had better be okay when they got back.  Rested, fed and well on the road to recovery.  Because once he got the green light from ole Doc Fraiser, he was taking Daniel on that fishing trip to his grandfather’s cabin in the wilds of Minnesota, spending a week exploring the natural beauty of his home state.   And in their down time, he and Daniel were going to do some serious repair work on their fractured friendship.   

Jack would be the first to confess his no foundation comment, spoken in a time of great need and danger, had caused a great deal of damage, more than was ever intended.  Jack only prayed it wasn’t irreparable damage.  A small part of him feared it was.  O’Neill was no fool to believe because Daniel had finally come around and told Jack he was forgiven, they could carry on as if nothing had happened.   Something had happened, something mean, nasty and heart wrenching.  His “no foundation” declaration, two words said to intentionally harm, had hurt Daniel, deeply and grievously. Sitting here now during this reflective time Jack realized he would most likely spend the rest of his life attempting to vanquish Daniel’s pain from a wound, which might never heal.  He would have to earn Daniel’s forgiveness, as Teal’c had done, not once, but twice.  And that was okay.  Jack could do that. Because Daniel and the friendship he offered Jack were important and worth maintaining.  

Daniel so did not need this shit right now.  Not after the year he’d lived through, and Jack wondered again, for the gazillionth time how Daniel had survived:  losing Sha’re, losing Nick, and losing the baby, now losing them for a time.  Knowing Daniel, he was immersed in worry and probably finding a way to blame himself for what happened. Blaming himself for not being with the team when the distress call from Thor arrived.  

Jack arched his back, stretching out the kinks in his muscles. God, he mused, how much more shit could Daniel take before he hit that imaginary wall and cracked emotionally? The man was tenacious, no doubt. That had been obvious since their first meeting.  But everyone had his or her breaking point, as Jack was personally aware.  He was going to make damn sure this unexpected little side trip to P3X whatever wasn’t going to be the incident, which drove Daniel over the edge.

“Shit!!!” O’Neil vented to the pristine woods surrounding him.  Okay, that was stupid.  Swearing at the alien landscape was not going to solve this problem.    

Daniel was going to be okay.  Because if Hammond and Fraiser and the rest of the SGC did not want to deal with an avenging O’Neill, a healed and relived Daniel would be waiting at the foot of the gate ramp tomorrow when he, Teal’c and Carter came marching home in triumphant.

****

Teal’c paused, listening.  As unmoving as the rock outcrop he was approaching, the Jaffa allowed his larval enhanced senses to assess his surroundings.  The wind rustled through the dark green tree canopy overhead, mixed with the cawing of an unknown bird.  He could sense no threat, carnivorous or alien, to either himself or his two companions. He resumed walking. His strong legs easily climbed the rock outcrop providing him a tactical vantage point to view their immediate surroundings.  The Stargate was behind him, as was their temporary encampment.  The lingering acrid smell of smoke hung in the air from their doused campfire.  Teal’c peered downward to the river slowly meandering through the lush vegetation.   He saw MajorCarter, her unclothed body gliding through the clear water of the tidal pool.  Teal’c’s gaze shifted quickly to spot O’Neill sitting, for the moment, in his chosen refuge.

Teal’c crouched keeping both his teammates in his peripheral vision. Here he would remain again for most of the day, partaking in a mild state of Kel-nor-reem while watching over his friends. He observed O’Neill preparing his fishing pole.  O’Neill had recently become obsessed with this act of fishing.  The Tau’ri had never mentioned this ritual until after the covert operation he conducted for the Asgaard and Tollan.  Before their mission to P3X-377 and their encounter with the Crystal Skull, O’Neill had confided to him his intention of removing DanielJackson from the SGC to a place called Minnesota to undertake this act of fishing ritual.  When Teal’c had inquired further as to why, O’Neill had said the two men needed to settle some things. What things, O’Neill had not specified, although Teal’c suspected it revolved around the covert mission to expose the rogue NID operations.  Since then, the bond of friendship shared between O’Neill and DanielJackson had been…. strained.  This unexpected separation was indeed an unfortunate one.  Both MajorCarter and O’Neill were distracted by their concern for DanielJackson, as was he.  Therefore, it became his responsibility to ensure they survived to be reunited with their temporarily abandoned fourth teammate.  Teal’c himself was burdened with his own guilt.  He had been so busy during the crisis gathering the ordnance requested by O’Neill, he had neglected speaking to the recovering archeologist to reassure the young human they intended to succeed in their mission and return to him.  Teal’c hoped of all the Tau’ri, DanielJackson realized the significance of their taking the Stargate. Recalling how the young human refused to quit searching for O’Neill and CaptainCarter when they had been marooned in Antarctica, DanielJackson must believe they were alive. Clinging to that hope, however, would not prevent thoughts of abandonment from creeping in to worry the archeologist.  

Teal’c shifted his position to sit cross-legged, spear resting at his side, eyes half closed as he entered a mild state of Kel-nor-reem.   Although he prided himself on maintaining his calm, unflappable demeanor, Teal’c knew fear.  He had known fear on the Beliskner floating alone in the vastness of the universe slowly suffocating; experiencing a death not even Junior could repair. Teal’c had faced his mortality and now underwent the survival ritual to declare death had not defeated him. It was a time for reflection. Their recent missions had revealed the frailty of not only himself but also his Tau’ri friends especially DanielJackson’s life-threatening illness.  Their bonds of friendship were fragile indeed.   Yet each threat they battled and survived only strengthened those bonds.  Teal’c prayed it was not too late for O’Neill and DanielJackson to repair what had been damaged. He focused his thoughts on his absent young friend.  Perhaps, in this way, he could maintain their link, and DanielJackson would know his team mates were alive and attempting to return home to him.

*****

# Evening , Day 5  P3X-234

“I’m guessing Daniel never told you two what happened when he came to my house during the NID undercover thing.”

O’Neill’s pronouncement was unexpected.  Until he had spoken, the three team mates had remained unusually silent, unlike their four previous, boisterous evenings.  As dusk fell, they had rendezvoused at their camp to share what their foraging had produced.  Nothing from O’Neill, as Teal’c had expected.  MajorCarter had collected some of the edible berries, while he had passed the afternoon stalking the docile herd animals and felling one to provide meat. He and MajorCarter had skinned and carved the carcass while O’Neill had rekindled their campfire. Now three spits hung over the flames, dripping grease from the hunks of speared meat to sizzle in the fire, the aroma of roasted flesh tangy in the still air. 

“No, sir.”

“He did not.”

Jack stabbed at the burning logs in their campfire, causing sparks to float lazily above the flames.

“DanielJackson, was, however, most disturbed,” Teal’c continued.

“I bet.”  Jack punctuated his comment by tossing the stick into the hungry fire.  He pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. He remained silent, eyes staring into the encroaching darkness held at bay by the soft illumination of their fire. 

Teal’c cast a glance toward MajorCarter.  They silently communicated their shared understanding of the need to remain silent and allow O’Neill to resume speaking when he was prepared to do so. Teal’c shifted his gaze to the Tau’ri leader.  He and MajorCarter had often speculated on what had transpired between their two teammates, which had generated their current unease with each other.   Now, on this primitive alien world, it appeared their patience would be rewarded. 

“I knew of the three of you, Daniel would be the one who would question what the hell was going on.”  O’Neill paused, looking first to Teal’c then to Carter.  “Not that I doubted you two wouldn’t want to know what the hell was going on.  But you’re military. You would have followed orders, keeping your questions and your suspicions to yourself.  But we all know Daniel.”

“You’re right, sir.  I think Teal’c and I were more shocked at your behavior.  But Daniel, he insisted something else was going on.   He refused to believe you suddenly decided to violate the goodwill we had established with our reluctant allies, no matter how frustrated you were with their refusal to provide technology.” 

“Yeah.”

“So, sir, what happened?” Carter prodded.

O’Neill pursed his lips.  “What happened was I was a shit faced bastard, Major; that’s what happened.” The vehemence behind the colonel’s words was unexpected.  “I had to get him the hell away from my house,” he continued his words now unemotional. “It was bugged and under surveillance. I didn’t need Maybourne and his goons thinking Daniel was involved in the charade.”  O’Neill’s haunted eyes focused on them.  “I couldn’t let them snatch Daniel, let them hurt him or maybe even….” His unspoken implication was clear.

“We understand, sir,” Carter offered in support.

“What did you tell DanielJackson?” Teal’c asked.

“The one thing I knew would goad him into leaving.” O’Neill inhaled deeply before continuing.  “I outright told him there had never been any friendship between us.  That he had mistakenly thought there was. That he had never known the real me.  If you had seen his face….” O’Neill rubbed his hands across his own.  “I’ll never forget that look of hurt and betrayal until the day I die.”

The stranded teammates sat in stunned silence, each contemplating O’Neill’s confession and reviewing the fallout generated by his words. 

“Oh, Daniel,” Sam sighed in sympathy, her gut clenching.   

“So, now you understand why we have got to get back to Earth ASAP,” O’Neill added in what was perhaps the understatement of the year.

****

# Day 6 SGC

With practiced ease, Janet removed the thermometer from Daniel’s mouth. The mercury edged above the 100-degree mark.  Frowning, she set it aside and studied her patient with a critical, assessing eye.   He looked the epitome of exhaustion.   Pale face dusted with today’s’ five o’clock shadow. Dull eyes behind the lenses ringed with the faint outline of dark circles.  Physically, he looked gaunt which Janet could attribute a majority of to his recent surgery.  The physical evidence was irrefutable.  Despite the cowed puppy dog aura surrounding her patient, it was time to scold Daniel for neglecting to take care of himself.

“You have a slight fever.  Have you been eating and resting as ordered?”

“Yes,” was his whispered answer, head bowed.

Janet’s displeased and disbelieving gaze never wavered as she brusquely continued. “Monitoring your caffeine intake?”

Daniel’s shoulders slumped in defeat.  “I’m eating okay.  As for sleep, well, I’m trying, but….”  The shoulders slumped further.

Janet waited, her instinct telling her Daniel would eventually reveal what was bothering him.  Aside from the current unpleasantness he was dealing with of course.  As to the vigil for the missing members of SG-1, her gentle nagging was paying dividends.  Daniel had accepted he wasn’t alone in this seemingly endless waiting, there were others here to help him in anyway they could, and he had reluctantly allowed them to care for him.  Although she secretly suspected he allowed this because those confined to the base during this lock down and not directly involved in working on the Beta gate needed to be proactive too. 

“Last night I had a dream, well, nightmare really.”

Daniel barely lifted his head, his haunted eyes beseeching her to provide some relief.

That look was all Janet required to realize a change in her bedside manner was called for.  She elevated herself onto the surgical bed to sit beside Daniel.  “Want to tell me about it?” she offered.   

Daniels’ hands released their white knuckled grip on the edge of the bed to disappear as his arms habitually encircled and crossed his midsection. 

_Not a good sign_ Janet mused.  _Must have been a bad one._

“Umm…I…I dreamed I saw Jack, Sam and Teal’c.  They were….were on Thor’s ship.  They were trapped, the ship was exploding.   They were screaming my name to help them, to save them, and I …I couldn’t do anything to save them.”

Daniels’ narrative ended.  His head bowed, eyes behind glasses squeezed shut as he sat motionless.   

Janet rested a hesitant hand on Daniel’s back.  When he didn’t flinch away from her comforting touch she leaned into his side.  That he allowed it either meant he had finally forgiven her schizophrenic misdiagnosis or he was desperate for solace from anyone.  “This will sound clichéd, but it was just a dream, Daniel.  It’s not surprising, with all the uncertainty, your subconscious is misbehaving.”

“I know.  But it was so real.”

“I know it was.  If you’re having trouble sleeping I can prescribe a sedative.”

Daniel didn’t answer immediately.  Janet was surprised not to have his usual automatic “I’m fine,” voiced to argue with her suggested use of the medication.

“I need one apparently.”

Boy did he ever, Janet thought surprised at his capitulation. She began to rub little circles on his bowed back.  “Daniel, I know this waiting and not knowing is unbearable.  Again, I’ll remind you, we’re all here waiting with you.  You’re not alone.”

“I know.”

“I hear they’ll attempt the first activation of the gate tomorrow,” Janet offered trying to find something positive for Daniel to hold on to. “Maybe all the kinks are worked out.”

“Maybe.”

Daniel straightened, unfolded his arms and gingerly slid off the bed to stand. “I, umm, should get back to my translations.”

This signaled the comfort session was over.  It had been an amazing thing Daniel had allowed it to last as long as it had.  “I’ll have the sedative ready for tonight.  Don’t overwork yourself,” Janet warned sliding off the bed as well.

“Understood.” His shy grin appeared on his haggard face.  ”Thank you for being here for me, Janet.”

Janet was suddenly suffused with gratification.  Daniel had forgiven her.  “Anytime.  Shoulder to lean on is a high priority duty in my job description.”

“Yeah…you do it very well.”

“Daniel—“

“I know,” Daniel interrupted right hand raised.  “Don’t overwork and watch the coffee.  I hear you.”

“It’s not the hearing.  It’s the implementation,” Janet clarified.

 The shy grin reappeared. “Dinner tonight?”

“Yes. I believe I am up on Major Davis rotation.”

“Okay. Dinner,” Daniel turned and exited the infirmary, his stride slow and measured.

Janet sighed.  God, please let the Beta gate work tomorrow.  Please. The longer this went on, the harder it was becoming for her to remain positive and cope.  If she couldn’t, then how was she supposed to help Daniel?

****

# Day 7, P3X-234

“Sir….”

“Ah ah, Carter!  I said I’m not going skinny-dipping.  I’ll shower when we get home. Deal with it.”

“Yes, sir.  Then I respectfully suggest a change in our sleeping arrangement.”

“Fine!” Jack snapped.   “I’ll build a second shelter opposite and downwind of our fire.  Satisfied!”

“Yes, sir.”

Jack stomped into the nearby foliage to gather poles to put actions to words. Teal’c and Carter shared a strained look before the Jaffa hefted his hand-made spear and departed to kill something, hopefully not Colonel O’Neill.

Alone, Sam wandered to the DHD.  Leaning against it she gazed longingly at the stone ring, mute and silent. Seven days going on forever. What was taking the SGC so damn long? She slipped the GDO from her vest pocket and held it.  The three of them were overwrought with worry about their missing fourth combined with impatient boredom.  The loneliness caused by not having anyone here to talk science with, was beginning to sap her positive attitude that everything would be okay.  As his recent tirade demonstrated, the colonel was beyond cranky. Sam was beginning to sense a crack in Teal’c’s normally unflappable demeanor as he began exuding the Jaffa version of annoyance.  Not to mention his chin fuzz was growing at an alarming rate.  He was spending more of the daylight hours off doing whatever he did. Sam guessed he was kel-nor-reeming as well as stalking wild prey pitting his Jaffa prowess against the natural elements of P3X-234 just as her CO, despite his latest tirade, was exploring the natural beauty of the planet.  

Sam sighed.  They were all worried about Daniel.  The longer they remained stranded here the more overwhelming their worry became. The last thing Daniel needed was to be greeted by the three of them descending the ramp snarling and snapping at each other.  Two more days. Then she was going to strongly insist they gate to Vorash and bully the Tok’Ra into flying them home. After all, they did owe them a favor or two.

Sighing, the weary major turned away from the alien device, selected a random route and walked into the woodland.  A flowering bush caught her eye and Sam angled toward it.   Bending, she inhaled deeply of the soothing aroma wafting from the large violet petaled flower.  Soothing, yes, but utterly failing to provide the relaxation she sought it was so definitely not fun.  Her face screwed in perplexity.  What was behind the colonel’s asking her to go fishing anyway?  Working on her prototype naquadah reactor, that was fun to her, not being stranded or going on a week long fishing trip with her CO, friend or not.  She cared for him of course, as she cared for Daniel and Teal’c.  The colonel would always be her commanding officer first and foremost, nothing more.  

No, the person the colonel needed to take fishing was Daniel especially after last night’s confession.  She and Teal’c guessed whatever had transpired between the two men had been bad but…it was worse than bad.  No wonder Daniel had been devastated, felt betrayed by the colonel and extremely pissed off. She would have been too, well, actually had been after the colonel’s ‘now I’m acting like myself’ remark. The bond of friendship between the colonel and Daniel was unique and should not be lost.  It was imperative they return to Earth to have SG-1 reunited so Daniel would no longer have to endure this separation.   Her last memory of a vulnerable Daniel in the infirmary flashed into her mind.  Shaking her head, Sam straightened.  She had to move or go nuts deciding to indulge in her non-professional study of flowering plants.  This was as much of the natural beauty of P3X-234 Sam wanted to be exposed to.  

What could be taking the SGC technicians so damn long anyway? Her mind ramped into full blown analytical mode listing all the problems and their respective solutions as she moved to a different flowing shrub distractedly eyeing the abundant blooms. 

****

# Day 7  SGC

Walter knew he wasn’t the only nervous one in the control room. He could feel the anxiety emanating from everyone huddled expectantly around him.  The crowd intently watched Sergeant Siler and his techs complete their final test of the new components surrounding the Beta gate. Walter continued to find it unsettling to not see the familiar triangle shaped glyph on his keyboard. The point of origin symbol had been replaced by what he described as the tuba. But as long as it worked….

“We’re ready for activation.”  Siler’s announcement filtered through the PA system.

Walter ceased his woolgathering and straightened at his console. It would be his responsibility to activate the dialup sequence to the planet they referred to as the Land of Light. If the test was successful, they were going to contact SG-15 and SG-6 currently stranded off world and several days beyond their scheduled return time, to inform them they could now come home. Then everyone would wait and pray for an off world activation accompanied by the transmission of SG1’s iris code. 

_Please, please, please_ Arial;mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"' > Walter prayed.  He glanced to his right.  Doctor Jackson stood there, arms tightly crossed looking both alone and hopeful. They had to succeed this time. They had to.

“Sergeant.”

At Hammond’s summons, Davis initiated the familiar dial-in sequence. As the clang of each chevron locking echoed, his hopes rose.  They were quickly dashed when the seventh chevron refused to engage.   

No one spoke in the ensuing silence.  Their disappointment was palatable, like a heavy blanket smothering them all. Walter heard someone mutter a curse.

“All right people.  Let’s get back to work double time.”  The general’s command galvanized everyone into action.

Walter saw the utter desolation on Doctor Jackson’s face when the archeologist turned to exit the control room.

_Damn it!_ The technician swore softly.  If he needed any additional incentive to redouble his efforts the look of disappointment on the civilian’s face was all the motivation he required. Walter began to run the diagnostics for the computer control system.  Next time.  They’d be successful next time.

Daniel was grateful no one stopped him to offer sympathy or words of encouragement.  He knew they all meant well, but after seven days the base personnel were beginning to grate on his nerves.  It reminded him too much of the well meaning but clueless adults clucking over him when his parents died. It hadn’t been as bad when Sha’re died because his friends had been here to insulate him from too many well-meaning gestures.  Right now the seemingly endless parade of SG teams posing as his babysitters was beginning to reach that stage of annoyance.  Daniel knew they meant well, and in fact had gratefully accepted their care for a time. The old fear of abandonment and of once again being alone allowed him to accept their attention. That time, however, was passing.

He quickly exited the Control Room not wanting to be a hindrance to the activities resuming there.  Daniel avoided the Briefing Room as well.  His earlier vigil watching the Beta gate arrive and settle into place had not quickened the process.  He also suspected, although no one had said so to his face, his looming presence only distracted the technicians.  Daniel knew they were working as fast as they could.  Other lives were at stake, he kept reminding himself.   The members of SG-6 and 15 were also stranded off world, by now baffled and probably anxious, seeking an explanation as to why. His overriding concern for the welfare of Jack, Sam and Teal’c could not exclude this fact.   Their relatives were as worried for the delayed return of their loved ones too.  Daniel had no right to be exclusive of their feelings.  

He entered the elevator and habitually selected the floor where the research labs were located.  When the car door reopened he stepped out but paused in the corridor.   Decision made, he turned away from his lab and walked toward Sam’s.  He slipped his key card through the security reader allowing the doors to slide open.   He entered the darkened room and flicked on the lights. 

The indicator lights on Sam’s equipment were the only signs of activity, some glowing without interruption, others flashing in unsynchronized patterns. Daniel wandered around taking in the uncharacteristic silence of the place.  How many hours had he and Sam shared here, talking, seeking and theorizing about everything, not just the pure sciences Sam was expert in. The thought of never again engaging Sam in discourse was unacceptable.  She simply had to be alive.  Jack and Teal’c as well.  He paused before her cluttered workbench, the under construction prototype naquadah reactor waiting for Sam’s return to be completed.  The crisis with Thor’s ship had interrupted her experiments and tinkering, as Jack would call it.

Daniel’s wandering gaze settled on a collection of pink, white and purple colors. Sam’s African violets were clustered together as if seeking support from each other.   They also looked a little droopy.   Daniel figured they needed both water and light. He walked over to the sink and filled an empty mug.  He carefully gave the wilting plants the needed liquid remembering Sam telling him not to wet the fuzzed leaves or overfill the plastic saucers the potted plants sat in. Violets did not like getting their feet wet she told him as Daniel recalled her lecture.  A stab of doubt, wondering if they would ever share future brother/sister moments, followed the memory.  Chasing the invasive doubt away, he briefly considered talking to the violets.  Surprisingly enough, for a linguist and person who valued the spoken word, Daniel was so not into the talking to plants thing.  That was Sam’s domain and one he anticipated her continuing.  Watering completed, Daniel surveyed the lab once again before leaving.  He decided to keep the lights on for the plants of course but also because Sam would see they had expected her to return and resume her work.

Daniel paused in the corridor.  He knew his own backlog of work awaited him but trying to lose himself in the study of myriad alien artifacts or their translations had been a failure of major proportions. Oh boy, here he went with the clichés. Think of something else. He was hungry, but eating didn’t appeal to him either even though it would earn him another scolding from Janet. Since it was mealtime some SG team would find and hustle him to the commissary.  Right now, Daniel wanted to be alone.  There was only one place he could think of as his refuge of solitude.

Glancing up and down the corridor, the archeologist ensured no one saw him enter Teal’c’s room.  Silently closing the door behind him, Daniel leaned against it and relished the isolation the darkness provided.  He remained this way for an unknown amount of time until his weary body and twanging incision suggested he alter his posture.  Finally rousing himself, his hand blindly traveled along the wall searching for the light switch.  Finding it, he flicked it on, illuminating the Spartan quarters festooned with unlit candles. Daniel knew where Teal’c kept his supply of fireplace matches and retrieved a few.  With methodical movement, he lit the candles surrounding the place of meditation.  Task completed, he switched off the overhead light before easing himself into a cross-legged position and tried to relax.   Closing his eyes he sought the meditative techniques Teal’c had taught him. But the solace they usually brought eluded him.  Daniel continued trying before finally admitting defeat and slumping.  He was weary in body and soul.  He could find no peace and would only know peace once his friends were safely returned to him.  

With notable protest from aching muscles, Daniel stiffly stood and stumbled towards Teal’c’s unused bed.  He tumbled onto it, lying on his left side, pulling the spare pillow down against his torso. Remembering to remove his glasses, they fell from his lax fingers onto the bed as Daniel closed his eyes. Darkness, in the guise of exhaustion, overwhelmed him, and he was instantly asleep.  

*****

Major Paul Davis’ concern multiplied with each passing minute. It was his turn, as designated on his meticulously engineered Doctor Jackson watch list to ensure the archeologist ate a proper dinner and was settled in the VIP room for the night. Doctor Jackson, however, was nowhere to be found.  

Despite his military discipline, Paul was becoming frantic.   Colonel O’Neill’s tirades were legendary, at least within the halls of the SGC.  He had no intention of becoming the next sacrificial lamb added to that list. He’d rather attempt the near impossible task of explaining some out there facet of the Stargate Program to the intractable Joint Chiefs than endure an O’Neill tongue lashing because he failed to do his part in caring for the archeologist.  Who was he kidding, Davis reminded himself.   Tongue-lashing would be too easy.   O’Neill would kill him, very slowly.

Damn it, Paul swore softly pausing outside the infirmary.   A quick peek inside revealed the room was empty of both patients and nursing staff.  But he did spy the top of Janet Fraiser’s brunet head as she sat in her office typing at her computer.  Swallowing his pride, Paul decided the time had come to enlist reinforcements.   

“Doctor Fraiser, may I have a moment of your time?”

The physician halted her work and grinned at her visitor.   “Certainly.  What can I do for you, Major?”

“It’s Doctor Jackson.”

Janet’s grin disappeared as she stood, cloaking herself in both her military and professional demeanor.   “What’s wrong?”  

“I’ve been recalled to Washington and my flight departs in a few hours. Until then, it’s my turn to escort Doctor Jackson to dinner, but I can’t find him,” Paul confessed, contrite. After all, he was a highly trained Air Force major, a Pentagon liaison, and he was unable to locate one civilian linguist.  

Relaxing slightly, Janet nodded her head.  “Yes, Daniel has a habit of isolating himself when he’s very upset.” She walked past Davis, entering the corridor.  Paul obediently followed.  “I take it you’ve already verified with security he didn’t attempt to leave the base.”

“Yes, ma’am, I did.”

“Where did you look?” the doctor asked pausing before the closed doors of the elevator and swiping her security card through the reader.

“Well, his lab.  The commissary. The Briefing Room.   The infirmary.”

“Ahh, I see your error.  You’re looking in the wrong places.  Come with me.” Janet instructed entering the elevator. 

The two officers first checked Colonel O’Neill’s office to find it empty, dark and minus one hiding archeologist.  Next, they looked into Major Carter’s lab.  Janet commented Daniel had been there because the violets, a task she usually undertook when Sam was off world, had been watered and the overhead lights were on.  

“There’s one more place we should look before issuing a base wide alert,” the physician suggested leading Paul down the corridor housing the base quarters. They neared a closed door, and Janet paused her fist lifted to knock.  She didn’t, choosing instead to lower her hand to the knob and slowly turning.

“Where are we?” Davis whispered.

“Teal’c’s quarters,” Janet whispered in reply.  She slowly opened the door wide enough for both of them to look inside.

Paul saw the sparsely furnished room glowed in the warm light and pleasantly scented air from several burning candles.  Janet pointed and he looked where she indicated.  In the flickering shadows Paul saw the outline of someone lying on the small, military issued bed.  Quietly, the two officers entered the room and approached the bed. It was obvious to a relieved Davis the wayward linguist was asleep.  Doctor Fraiser ascertained the same as she unfolded a gray woolen blanket and gently covered the slumbering man.  She motioned with her head for Paul to follow, and he obeyed. Again outside, the doctor closed the door before speaking.

“I think we can skip dinner tonight, Major.  Daniel could use the sleep and doing so in Teal’c’s room gives him the security he needs.  I’ll have two SFs posted outside to keep an eye on him.”

“Well, if you feel that’s best doctor, of course,” Paul quickly agreed. 

“I do.  Well,” Doctor Fraiser sighed, slipping her hands into the pockets of her lab coat, “Daniel crisis averted.  I haven’t eaten yet myself.  Care for some company?”

“As long as I have your guarantee you’ll explain to General Hammond and Colonel O’Neill why Doctor Jackson failed to eat on my watch,” the major sought reassurance.

“Doctor’s orders, I swear.”  Janet’s dark eyes became serious. “So, you believe SG-1 is alive.”

“Doctor Fraiser, after what’s happened over the last three years with the SGC and SG-1 in particular, how can I not?  I told General Hammond when I arrived before this latest crisis, all I do, everyday, is immerse myself in all things related to the Stargate.” Paul quieted, staring at the closed door.  “I’ve been hoping for an opportunity to speak with Doctor Jackson in private.   As the crisis with Thor’s ship was unfolding, I was so focused on carrying out my orders I neglected to consider Doctor Jackson’s feelings.” He redirected his troubled gaze to the base physician.  “I wanted to apologize.”     

“Well, I know from personal experience, Daniel is a very forgiving man, Major. I’m certain he understood you were following orders.”

“I hope he understood.  For his sake, I have to believe SG-1 escaped Thor’s ship before it crashed into the Pacific.  With SG-1, you ignore the practical and pray for the miraculous.”

“Over dinner, let me tell you, thanks to Daniel, of the moralistic human side of what goes on here you don’t read in those matter-of-fact post mission reports.”

Paul smiled.  “Since I consider myself an interloper here, Doctor, I’d appreciate that.”

“Nonsense,” Janet pooh-poohed as the elevator doors opened.   “You’re one us.”  

****

# Day 8  SGC

“Fifth Chevron locked,” Walter announced.

He watched, entranced, body tense, heart racing as the inner wheel of the Beta gate circled initiating the sixth chevron.  The Control Room was filled to overflowing with equally tense but hopeful base personnel.  He’d overhead the whispered rumors the Briefing Room above was equally overcrowded. Apparently every member of the SG teams confined to the base during this crisis was present seeking moral support and offering solidarity for their missing comrades.   Doctor Jackson was in their midst.   Walter prayed the civilian could find comfort in the hope they offered.  He wasn’t aware of a single person on this base who didn’t feel sympathetic toward the archeologist and the unknown fate of SG-1.

“Sixth Chevron locked,” Walter announced to the silent audience.

The tech slid his left hand under the console and crossed his fingers. Superstitious he knew but Walter had nothing else to offer.  The ‘gate had to work this time.  It just had to.

The Beta gate spun below the new Point of Origin tuba symbol slowly rotating toward the topmost chevron.  

The gate stopped.  

Walter would later swear everyone held his or her breath, as the seventh chevron seemed to lock down in slow motion.  The released energy from the newly formed wormhole exploded into the room before settling into the familiar silver blue watery event horizon. Simultaneous with this success, gusts of air puffed around the seated technician as everyone resumed breathing. 

They’d done it!!   The gate was active once again! 

Walter initiated the shut down sequence while loud hoops, yells and one very boisterous Texas twanged Yee haaa! Reverberated in the control room followed by multiple spoken “congratulations” swirling around him. They had done their part. Now it was up to their two stranded SG teams and God please, SG-1 to find their way home.

Janet slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat so no one would see her clenched fists of worry.  She glanced upward at Daniel’s profile.  The archeologist was front and center of the tightly packed crowd pressing against the viewing window, his arms habitually crossed in a self hug of support, a neutral expression on his weary face.  He’d been disappointed the past two days so Janet guessed he wasn’t allowing himself to hope this time the ‘gate would work. 

Her gaze was drawn to the newly seated Beta gate below as she heard the muffled clank of the sixth chevron locking into place.  Okay, this was as far as they’d gotten in their previous attempts. Both fists, hidden in the pockets, unclenched and fingers crossed.  The inner ring of the gate stopped.  To her perspective the chevron seemed to take forever to lock into place. The vibrations from the force of the forming wormhole exploding into the Embarkation Room, before settling into the familiar rippled surface, traveled through the Briefing Room floor. 

They’d done it!  Finally. Janet pulled her hands from her pockets and reached for Daniel’s tense arm.

The archeologist turned to face her, guarded relief written on his haggard face.  This was only the first step she reminded herself, flashing him a hopeful smile all the same. 

The clustered SG teams finished their impromptu celebration, realizing it was premature until they knew the fate of their three off world teams. 

“Daniel, your exam,” Janet encouraged tugging on the archeologist’s arm.

Janet began to guide Daniel away from the viewing window.   He was due for a post surgical check up involving the removal of the appendectomy sutures.  

They’d only gone two steps when the intercom blared.  

“Off-world activation!  Closing the iris!”

_Could it be_ , Janet thought, turning with Daniel.  The departing SG teams had reversed course and the physician and archeologist again found themselves jammed against the viewing window.  No one moved or spoke.

“Receiving SG-15 iris code,” came the announcement.  

Of his own volition, Daniel turned away from the activity below. Janet followed.   Sighs of relief mixed with several muffled, “Finallys,” echoed around as the crowd parted to let the two pass.   Janet guessed most wanted to remain and witness the members of SG-15 physically walk into the Embarkation Room from their unintentional expanded mission.  Janet knew her nursing staff, stranded here at the SGC with little to do the past two weeks, would be more than capable and eager to conduct SG-15’s post mission medicals. She could focus all of her attention on Daniel, who, whether he admitted it or not, continued to need her support, as well as others as they prayed for a positive outcome.   

****

# Day 9  P3X-234

Sam’s hand hovered over the required seventh, and final glyph. She sensed the eager presence of both the colonel and Teal’c behind her.  If the dial-in for Earth did not work this time, they were going to Vorash. Either way, the three of them were leaving P3X-234.  Daniel needed them, and they needed him.  This separation had gone on long enough.

Opening her eyes, Sam pressed the final glyph.  The chevron locked into place.  Unlike their previous eight-day’s attempts, the familiar rumble and kawoosh of the wormhole bursting forth before resettling inside the stone ring followed.  Smiling in triumph and relief, Sam turned to her two companions, emotionally over come with their success.  Finally, they were going home.  

Teal’c’s solemn face brightened as he regally tilted his head toward her, the only show of excitement the Jaffa would permit.

The colonel, however….

“WOO HOO!!” he yelled towards the alien sky before grabbing Carter in a bear hug and spinning her around a few times.  

“Ah, sir, the wormhole, ” Carter reminded extracting herself. “If we fail to enter---“

“What are you waiting for, Carter.  Send the GDO code!” O’Neill interrupted her explanation, releasing her and quickly composing himself.  

“Yes, sir.” Sam obeyed, taping in the proper numerical sequence into the device..

“Settle down now, Teal’c,” O’Neill chastised the Jaffa.   “If Daniel’s waiting for us, remember he’s recovering from major surgery.  He doesn’t need any undue excitement.”

“As you wish, O’Neill,” came Teal’c’s dry reply.

The colonel wasn’t fooling anyone, Sam thought.  He was as eager to get home to Daniel as she and Teal’c were. Probably even more so. “Code sent, sir.”

“Well, no time like the present.  Lets go kids.”

Flanking O’Neill, Carter and Teal’c matched strides with their commander and entered the wormhole.  They were going home.

****

# Day 9  SGC

“I hear it took a little longer than they thought to set up the second gate,” Janet said, as she began her examination.  It was old news but she hoped Daniel would play along and allow himself to be distracted with the conversation while she worked.

“Ah, yes.  They finally got it running yesterday.  Technical difficulties or something.”

Of course they did, Janet reminded herself.  She and Daniel were both present to witness the activation of the Beta Gate.  Daniel was contributing to the repetitious chit chat.  

“They needed Sam’s help, huh,” Janet continued as she carefully palpitated Daniel’s exposed lower abdomen.  She’d already taken his pulse and blood pressure and found both to be racing and elevated. He should relax.   Janet debated whether or not to give Daniel a very mild sedative while she prolonged this post-op inspection to monitor his vitals. She couldn’t blame Daniel. Positive things were starting to happen as the stranded SG-6, following in the footsteps of SG-15, had also safely ‘gated home yesterday.  Now, if only….

“Yes, it’s ironic she’s not here to save herself,” Daniel replied distracted.

“Well, you are fine.  There’s no sign of residual infection,” Janet declared, lifting her probing fingers away from Daniel’s abdomen.  “You are very lucky.”

“So you keep telling me,” Daniel said leveling himself into a seated position. He looked down at his newest scar marring his lower abdomen rubbing a finger across the fine red line of healing skin before pulling his black T-down to cover it.  

“Ah huh.  I still want you to take it easy for another week, or----“

Janet’s consultation was interrupted by an announcement issuing from intercom. 

“Off-world activation.  We have an off world activation.”

Before Janet could counsel Daniel to wait the archeologist grabbed his work shirt and leapt off the bed running from the infirmary.  “Okay,” she sighed before deciding her presence in the Briefing Room was required.  If this was SG-1 returning, then by God, she was going to be there to witness the reunion of the team. Hopefully, they were returning alive and healthy.  Even so, she knew their first questions to her in their post mission physicals would be “How’s Daniel, really?”  Her heels clicking quickly and loudly Janet followed in her patient’s footsteps.

In the Control Room, an overjoyed Walter gave General Hammond the news they had been hoping to receive.  “Receiving SG-1 IDC, sir!”

“Open the iris!” Hammond barked.  He remained standing to Walter’s right observing as the SFs rush to their assigned positions before the active Stargate, armed and prepared.

Walter obeyed, watching with relieved eyes as the titanium shield dilated open. He saw Doctor Jackson run into the Embarkation Room behind the armed SFs to position himself at the bottom of the ramp.  A few anxious seconds passed before three weary figures emerged from the wormhole.   Smiling, Walter crossed his arms reveling in the reunion playing out below.  Some days it was good to be him.

Jack was a step ahead of Carter and Teal’c when he exited the wormhole. He paused a second to scan their reception committee and saw Daniel standing, blue shirt clutched in his hands, waiting for them at the foot of the ramp.  He couldn’t quite decipher his friend’s expression, but it didn’t matter right now.  What mattered was Daniel was upright, a little pale and gaunt in the face but apparently recovering and waiting for them.  Jack wanted nothing more than to rush down and swoop Daniel into a repetition of the Space Monkey hug but sensed such a display this time, with the strain their friendship was suffering, would only serve to embarrass both of them. The hug, if Daniel would allow it, could wait, for a private time.  So he decided to play their arrival as nonchalant as possible.

“Well, it’s about time!” Jack allowed himself to shout, releasing some of his joy, as he, Carter and Teal’c moved down the ramp.

“We’ve been dialing home for over a week,” Carter added, her voice subdued but tinged with relief to finally be home. 

Jack was inwardly pleased to see a tiny smile brighten Daniel’s face. “It’s great to see you guys, too,” their abandoned fourth member greeted casually.  

Okay, Jack thought, message received.  Nonchalant it is. 

“I am pleased to see you well, DanielJackson.” 

Jack reminded himself to talk to Teal’c about that impatience thing renewing his critical survey of Daniel as the three of them halted before their teammate. 

“Thank you, Teal’c,” Daniel accepted the complement.  His inquiring right index finger began to snake toward the Jaffa. “You’ve got a-- ”

“Ah, don’t touch it,” Jack advised, sotto voiced, intercepting and guiding Daniel’s finger away.  But it was good to see Daniel’s curiosity was as active as ever.

Puzzled, Daniel nonetheless obeyed, his arm rejoining his left hugging his midsection.  Jack wondered if Daniel’s incision was bothering him.

“Glad to see you made it SG-1.”  Hammond’s declaration doubled as his greeting as he strode into the Embarkation Room.

“Where’s the fanfare, General?” Jack continued, oozing nonchalentness. 

“We kinda saved the planet,” Carter added.

“Again. This should not be getting old.”

“Well done, and welcome home, SG-1.”

“Thank you, sir.  It was nothing,” Jack waved off the praise, his eyes locked on Daniel.  

“What happened to Thor?”  Daniel’s question neatly diverted any further discussion of their heroic actions. 

“We got him out in a stasis pod,” Carter answered.

“It was retrieved when we passed through the gate on P3X-234,” Teal’c added to the explanation.  

“It must have had a locating beacon,” Carter clarified.   

“And they left you behind?” came Hammond’s indignant reply.

“We managed, sir,” Carter assured.

“I’d be happy to debrief you all after I’ve debriefed myself to a nice, hot shower,” Jack managed to say, effectively ending the impromptu debriefing. Besides, he had dreamed of that shower for days.   

“Permission to shower granted,” Hammond concurred.  “In fact, I insist on it.”

Jack wrinkled his face.  “Bad?” he directed his query to Daniel.  

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Daniel responded deadpanned, the perfect come back.

Striving to maintain his casualness, Jack led his scruffy, smelly companions from the gate room.  He glanced over his shoulder to glimpse Daniel’s smile of relief, shared with Hammond. 

Jack sighed, allowing nine days of frustration to exit with the exhaled breath. Daniel was okay.   Well as okay as he could be after the hell they’d all been through.  Daniel was okay, and the two of them could get back to working on that friendship thing. It was top priority. Nothing, absolutely nothing was going to interfere with him and Daniel regaining what had been temporarily lost. Nothing.

Sam was the first of the three to depart SG-1’s locker room. Finally, she was clean and refreshed. No more itchy, smelly BDU’s and T-shirt, not to mention her underwear.  Shuddering, Sam absently combed her fingers through her drying but squeaky-clean hair. The length was a smidgen past regulations but she wasn’t in any hurry to have it cut.  She had other priorities, one being the slouching man waiting in the hallway.  Upon seeing her, Daniel immediately straightened.

Sam said nothing, merely grinned and engulfed Daniel in a hug she had no intention of ending quickly.  Daniel thankfully returned her embrace, his face resting against her neck, the warm puffs of his breath caressing the skin.  Sam closed her eyes reveling in the physical reality of Daniel being here and apparently recovered from his appendectomy.  Her hands slid along his back, her fingers noting the slight ridges of his ribs through the black T-shirt.  Okay he’d lost some weight but now she, the colonel and Teal’c were reunited with Daniel, they would ensure Daniel ate proper food and often, including generous helpings of chocolate walnut cookies.  No one cared for the well-being of their friend with the same passion as SG-1.

“Oh, I was so worried about you,” Sam confessed, stilling her hands to tighten her hold around Daniel’s back.

“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

Sam chuckled.  “We missed you.”

“I missed you guys too,” Daniel, repeated his confession from the Gate Room. “Being on Thor’s ship, was it, well, was it scary?”

“Oh yeah,” Sam breathed.  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Daniel, but be glad you weren’t there.   We barely escaped as it was.”

“I was in the control room.  Thor’s ship crashed seconds after you beamed up the Stargate.   We had no way of knowing if….”

Sam loosened her hold and leaned away to be face to face with Daniel. “I’m sorry we worried you. I wanted to tell you before Teal’c and I joined the colonel, we had every intention of surviving and coming back.”

“I know.  Janet told me when I woke up.”

Sam allowed her guilt, controlled until now, to overwhelm her. “I should have been the one to tell you.”

“Sam, it’s over.  You’re here. Jack and Teal’c are here.” His shy grin appeared. “SG-1 is whole again. Nothing else matters.”

Sam studied Daniel closely looking for a hint of what she wasn’t sure. Since she and Teal’c were now privy to a disturbing, damaging moment in the colonel’s and Daniel’s friendship, she couldn’t ignore the consequences of what had happened. “The colonel was really worried about you.  The two of you need to talk.”

Daniel ducked his head.  “I know. We will.  Promise.”

Knowing when Daniel promised to do something, he would, Sam accepted his word. Reluctantly ending their hug, she stepped away.  “Okay.   Well, Janet awaits.  I’ll see you in the debriefing.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Daniel’s grin reappeared.  

Nodding, Sam turned and walked away.  She intended on grilling Janet for a full accounting to how Daniel survived these past nine days, starting with how the bed ridden archeologist had managed to find himself in the control room to witness the destruction of Thor’s ship as it burned and crashed into the ocean.

Daniel watched Sam until she disappeared around a corner.   His self-hug appeared encircling himself and replacing the security Sam had offered moments ago.  Apparently, while stranded off world, Jack had confessed to Sam and Teal’c about the no foundation thing.  Daniel was surprised Jack had told Sam and Teal’c what had happened.  He certainly had refused to discuss it with his two friends.  Perhaps this was a positive sign.  Talk.  The one component of his and Jack’s rocky friendship they could never freely initiate was the talking thing.  Maybe, now, that would change.

Walking to the closed locker room door, Daniel opened it and entered. With Sam headed for the infirmary, it would be boys only time in the locker room.  

“DanielJackson.”

Teal’c’s greeting was immediate as Daniel closed the door behind himself.

“Hey, Teal’c.”

Like Sam, the Jaffa was clean and dressed in fresh BDU’s and black T-shirt. 

“It is imperative you and O’Neill conclude the act of fishing ritual,” the warrior declared, straightening to his full height, hands clasped firmly behind him.

“Oh. Um, well, okay, we can do that I guess,” Daniel agreed.  “So, what’s with the um,” he began waving his finger in front of his own chin.

“I shall explain, DanielJackson, during our next session of Kel-nor-reem,” Teal’c evaded.

“Okay,” Daniel capitulated.  “Um, speaking of Kel-nor-reem, I spent some time in your quarters trying to…well, I hope that was okay?”  Daniel knew Teal’c valued the sanctity of his on base room.  He was uncertain whether his intrusion without prior permission would be forgiven.

Teal’c unclasped his hands and rested them on Daniel’s shoulders. His stern face softened. “Did the meditation bring you comfort during our absence?”

“Yes.” His attempt at Kel-nor-reem may have been a failure, but the one night Daniel had slept in Teal’c’s room was the only one undisturbed by nightmares.

“Then I am pleased it brought you comfort.”  Teal’c tilted his head while lifting his hands away.

“So, Sam told me it was scary on Thor’s ship.”

“Indeed, I now share O’Neill’s aversion to multi-legged insects.”

With this declaration, Teal’c bowed to the arriving O’Neill, who was toweling himself from his recently completed shower, and departed. 

Daniel’s self-hug reappeared.  He stared at the floor, silent as Jack dressed.  Now it was only the two of them and he was uncertain what to do or say so opted to allow Jack to initiate whatever would come.

Jack eyed Daniel as he walked to his locker dropping the towel on the bench. He picked up a clean pair of BDUs and slipped them on.  He guessed it was up to him to take the first step.  “So, Daniel, how you doing?”

“I’m fine.  Janet said I was very lucky.”

“Yeah,” Jack continued pulling a clean T-shirt over his head.   “You look too pale to me.  Didn’t these people take care of you?”

“Yes, Jack.  They smothered me in kindness.”

Jack finished tying his bootlaces and stood.  Daniel continued to watch him, standing stiffly at the locker room entrance, arms crossed before him protectively.   They had to go slow from here, Jack reminded himself, slow and steady.  He knew he’d have to be the one to initiate the healing process.  He slowly approached his friend and drew Daniel into a hesitant hug. Daniel’s stiffness only proved how far they had to go to get their friendship back on track.   Jack held on, not pressing or rushing.   Eventually Daniel’s arms uncrossed and loosely returned the hug.  Okay, first step taken.

“Hey, Space Monkey,” Jack whispered into Daniel’s right ear. “That fishing invitation is still open. As soon as we can both get away…”

“Okay.”

“Good. I wanted, you know, to be sure we’re both clear on this.”

“We are.”

Jack reluctantly released the hug, and the two separated, putting some distance between them.  

“So, you told Sam and Teal’c?”

“Yeah. I was really losing it, worrying about you, worrying about what had been said, what hadn’t been said. Almost dying will do that to you.” Jack quieted, his memory dredging up the regret of not taking advantage of opportunities when presented. The shade of Frank Cromwell haunted him.  Jack vowed that would not happen with Daniel…unless Daniel chose to let their friendship unravel. What if during these past nine days, Daniel had decided he could move on just fine without Jack and all the baggage he carried.  

Daniel nodded, his eyes scanning the locker room, looking everywhere except towards Jack.  Okay, Jack thought knowing he would have weeks and months of groveling ahead of him. But keeping Daniel’s friendship would be worth it.

“So…what's with Teal’c’s facial hair thing?”

“Oh, that.  It’s a Jaffa Tarzan thing.”

“A Jaffa Tarzan thing?” Daniel repeated bemused.  

“I guess.  He won’t say. You’ve got to find out and let me know.”  Jack eyed Daniel. “We really missed you, Danny. The big guy especially. As you can see, he went native on us. And Carter, she was ready to burst not having someone to share science speak with.  And me,” Jack paused carefully laying his right arm across Daniel’s tense shoulders, “me, I just missed you.  Whatever we’ve lost in our friendship, we’re going to get it back. I promise.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Relieved, Jack guided Daniel from the locker room toward the elevator.  The first step had been taken.

**The End**

  


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> First published in Foundations 3

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> March 25, 2003 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.   
> 

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End file.
